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THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF

Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Remus. A child of
a wizard and a Muggle, Remus’ parents, Wolfgang and Lycanthra, had been living
as Muggles ever since they were married. Together, they lived in a small
village in England tending a flock of sheep, just as Lycanthra Bo Peep Lupin’s
family had been doing for centuries.

Bo Peep? Her maiden name was Peep?

Yes.

Does this story have anything to do with yellow
marshmallow chicks?

No. Do you want me to tell you this story or not?

Continue.

Thank you.

Now, although Remus liked tending sheep just fine, the
thing he was most keen on was his love of a great prank.

No matter how hard his parents tried to teach Remus that
telling lies and playing pranks could be dangerous, little Remus refused to
take heed. He remained a mischievous little fellow.

One of his favourite pranks was to saunter into town when
he was supposed to be tending his flock of sheep. When he arrived at the edge
of town, Remus would dash to the centre of town and cry in a voice loud enough
for the entire village to hear, "Wolf! Wolf!" as though he were being
chased by such a lupine creature.When his
neighbours came running to his aid, Remus doubled over in laughter at them for
their pains and then skipped all the way back to his unattended flock singing
merrily “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.”

In short, he thought himself the cleverest boy in the
world. Certainly, there had never been another boy as clever as he!

When Remus came back home from tending his flock, Wolfgang
his father was waiting for him.

"Now boy…” began his father, “Don't go crying ‘Wolf’
when there isn’t one there, or you will undoubtedly end up in a situation one
day in which you will regret doing so." He leered at his son ominously. Remus,
as fate would have it, was thinking of how to best bait a sheep rather than
listening to his father.

One day, the young boy took a sheepskin from his mother's
shed ...

Why?

Why what?

Why did he do that?

Oh. Well, what he did with the sheepskin is anyone's
guess; just suffice it to say that he did in fact steal a sheepskin from the
shed.

All right.

As I was saying, the young lad was planning a prank on his
favourite target, Mr MacGregor. Mr MacGregor, a rather piggish looking fellow,
had moved to Remus’ village after a wolf had blown his house down. Mr MacGregor
also happened to be that evil neighbour with the rude Scottish terrier, Inky. Remus
hated black dogs because he was allergic to them. Plus, whenever shedding
season came around, black dog hair would always show up on everything.

After having a delicious roasted lamb dinner, Remus sneaked
outside and slowly crept into Mr MacGregor’s garden. His idea was to cover the
hated Scottish terrier in the sheepskin, hoping that a wolf would then come
over and amuse himself with the sheep/dog.

I thought what he was going to do with the sheepskin was
anyone’s guess?

Well, it WAS … but now we know. May I continue with the
story?

Okay.

Anyway, Remus lured the Scottish terrier into Mr MacGregor’s
gardenwith bits from his dinner. Inky came
scurrying over like a rat, unable to resist a piece of cheese. Soon, poor Inky
looked more like Mary Sue’s little lamb than a dog. Now all Remus had to do was
wait for a wolf to come after the "sheep."

Soon, a large shadow crept across the garden. Remus crossed
his fingers and hoped… unfortunately for him, it was nothing but a stag that
had come to munch on some of Mrs MacGregor’s vegetables in the garden. Inky was
alerted at once and started bleating, er… barking his little head off. The
sheepskin moved up and down with each one of Inky’s barks.

Remus, trying to get some fun out of the evening, began his
favourite cry, "Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!" and kept it up until Mr MacGregor
finally burst outside carrying a cricket bat with which to defend himself.

Cricket? Not Quidditch? I thought this was a Harry
Potter story.

It is a Harry Potter story. But Mr MacGregor is a Muggle.

Oh, right.Continue.

Looking all around, Mr MacGregor spied Remus hiding in the
garden behind some bushes just like Peter Rabbit. Mr MacGregor marched over to
him straight away with a most sour expression on his face. Remus knew he was
in for it. He soon found himself on his parents’ couch, explaining his latest
attempted prank and being scolded once again by his father.

"What is it with you and wolves?" cried Wolfgang
in exasperation. Remus held back a retort about the whole family’s apparent
obsession with lupine names.

After that, Remus behaved himself (relatively speaking) for
a while. Eventually, though… well, boys will be boys…

One day, Remus put on his red cloak with the red hood, went
next door to Mr MacGregor’s, and tried the old Inky-dressed-up-as-a-sheep
routine again and waited at sunset in the garden for a wolf to appear and
snatch Inky.

As it happened, there was indeed a wolf in the area, a wolf
named Aberforth ... No, wait, he goes for goats. Hmm…

Are we sure Remus' mother doesn't have a goat farm?

Positive. You see, Aberforth was so drunk on Ogden’s that
he made a mistake. Sheep, goats … not all that different to him.

He must’ve been REALLY drunk.

Well, perhaps. But after three Firewiskeys, goats and
sheep all look the same to him, you see?

Anyway… Aberforth the Wolfsnatched
Inky, expecting to find a curvaceous goat. Not only did he not find a goat, but
to his dismay, it wasn't even a sheep!

Neither Aberforth nor Inky were happy about the
circumstances, although Remus found it quite amusing. Inky wriggled free and
yelped as he ran all the way to the MacGregor house and through the doggy door.

That left just Aberforth and Remus standing there staring
at each other. Poor Remus was not in a good position, to say the least.
Commenting that the wolf had big eyes just like his grandmother didn't help Remus,
either. Perhaps a kid stealing a sheepskin is not such a good idea after all.

Now, ordinarily, Aberforth would not have bothered with a
scrawny little kid, unless it was a goat. But this happened to be the night of
a full moon. And Aberforth happened to be a werewolf.

Well, obviously. Who would name a REAL wolf, “Aberforth”?

Shut it, kid. Anyway, as the moonlight glinted off Aberforth’s
razor-sharp canine teeth, Remus sensed that this was not a good situation for
him to be in and cried out desperately.

"WOLF! WOLF! WOLF!"

Unfortunately for Remus (but fortunately for Prisoner of
Azkaban fans), the villagers had all got used to Remus’ bogus cries of
"wolf." What’s more, this was a Muggle village and therefore, the
villagers did not know that cries of "wolf" added to a full moon
meant werewolf. Therefore, the villagers did nothing. Not even Remus’ own
parents heeded his calls.

Remus did the only thing he could and fled into the woods.

Why didn’t he run to his own house?

Because that would not suit the purposes of this story, of
course!

That’s not a good enough reason!

Well, let’s just say the woods seemed like a good idea at
the time. Honestly, I wonder if Aesop had to work this hard to tell a story!

Naturally, Aberforth ran into the woods behind Remus,
catching him up in no time. What ensued was not good for young Remus. A mighty
chomp on his posterior from Aberforth, and Remus’ life was forever changed.

Fortunately, Aberforth soon remembered that in order for
this plot to work, Remus had to survive and become a werewolf. Cooperative as
ever, Aberforth released the boy after only one bite and fled to parts unknown
and uncared about.

Went back to the Hog’s Head, did he?

Well, er … maybe… probably… yeah. Ahem, back to the story:
thus began Remus’ life of angst and torture.

Remus slowly limped back to his parents’ house, dreading
getting another lecture from his father. Sure enough, as soon as he got there,
Wolfgang was at the door, already starting to lecture him on the dangers of
associating with wolves.

"I cried ‘wolf,’ but nobody answered!" cried Remus
through his tears as he rubbed his sore bum.

"You should have cried ‘werewolf’ instead!"
suggested his father as Lycanthra attended to Remus’ wound.

In the end, Remus lost one of his bottom cheeks and never
wanted to hear the words "wolf" or "werewolf" ever again.
He also learnt a couple of valuable lessons: first, that nobody believes a
liar, even when he speaks the truth.

What’s the second lesson he learnt?

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home… oh,
wait… that’s from a different wizarding tale!

The End

//

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